Unforgotten
by Mamajules12
Summary: As Lucien and Jean are looking for something in the attic they come across an old toy that brings back memories for Jean that have been tucked away.


**This fic is inspired by the Drabble prompt tucked away. It does reference Jean miscarriage; loss of her daughter. **

"Oh bloody hell! Are you sure it's up here Jean?" They have spent the last half an hour looking for a box of old fabric that Jean wants to take to the orphanage to teach some of the older girls how to sew.

"Yes. You moved it last Christmas getting the decorations down. But where did you put it?" She is getting frustrated with her dear husband's lack of interest.

Lucien makes his way to the far left corner, tripping over a crate of some old toys that he doesn't recall, swearing some more under his breath. "Maybe we should clean out some of this stuff. We could bring these old toys to the orphanage also. I don't even remember playing with them."

Jean looks up from the opposite corner, knee deep in holiday decor. "That would be because they were Christopher and Jack's things. Your father let me put some things up here when I moved in. I've almost forgotten what I tucked away up here." She begins weaving her way through the stored items of their past.

"Careful you don't trip." Lucien reaches out a hand to guide her to his side."

Jean begins picking through the toys slowly as if recalling a memory attached to each that her hand touches. "I'm sure the children would enjoy the toys. I'll ring the sisters in the morning." She turns with a sigh. Lucien notes the tears well in her eyes when she spies and old wooden rocking horse.

"Well now, he's a handsome chap." Lucien lift the horse out from behind the pile. "We should bring him down for Amelia to play with when she's here."

She smiled affectionately at the old piece of carved wood, paint chipped and worn from use and age. "We should. It was made with a lot of love behind it." Jean then turns towards Lucien, he can see she wants to tell him something, the story behind the child's toy.

"What is it darling?"

"It's nothing." Jean turns abruptly and heads to the stairs. "Let's go. I need a cuppa. Bring the rocking horse with you so I can clean it up."

The kettle is whistling by the time he enters the kitchen. Jean has two cups out and a plate of shortbread. "I brought down the other toys also for you to look through."

"Thank you Lucien." She pours out the tea before sitting down heavily, not once making eye contact with her husband.

"What about the fabric?" Lucien is trying to keep her engaged without prying, knowing something is on her mind.

"It will turn up. In the meantime I'll pick some up at the store for the girls."

They sit in silence with their cooling tea, Jean lost in her memories and Lucien twitching with anticipation to know what is troubling her. Not able to keep quiet any longer Lucien takes her hand. "Jean? What's on your mind?"

"Oh Lucien, I've been thinking about how much I love that wooden horse and how much I hate it." The last she says with a shrug.

"I don't understand Jean."

She gives a little chuckle, of course he wouldn't understand. "My father-in-law started carving it when I was pregnant." she took a pause before continuing, "the first time. Despite the circumstances he was so happy that he was going to be a grandfather. And then I lost the baby. No one ever talked about it with me, it's as if it wasn't mentioned than it didn't happen."

"Darling, I wish...I'm so glad you talk to me about her." He squeezes her hand tighter.

"Anyway, Christopher's father put the carving aside. Then after Christopher Junior was born he brought the horse to the house so proud of it. It was beautiful and the kids loved it through the years but there will always be apart of me that looks at it and thinks that it should have been my daughter who rode it first. Silly I know."

"Not silly at all my darling. If you want to get rid of it or put it back in the attic we can. Anything you want."

Her love for this man swells inside of her, for she knows that he will do anything she wants. She leans over the table to capture his lips with hers, kissing him deeply before pulling back. "I think we should clean it, maybe some new paint and watch our girl have fun with it."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. Lucien you allow me to talk about my loss, my daughter, something that has been tucked away, hidden, for thirty years."

"But not forgotten." He stands and pulls her up into his embrace, allowing her tears to wash over her.

Lucien whisks the horse away to the garage with a _let me take care of this Jeanie,_ the very same day it came down from the attic. For weeks he putters cleaning it up after dinner if a case isn't in need of his attention. Between trips to the hardware store and what he finds in his mother's old art supplies he has all he needs to make the rocking horse new.

The first couple days Jean watches Lucien's gentle care sanding and cleaning the old toy, deciding that she had more important things to attend to, she leaves him on his own. She starts to note the various shades of paint that appear on his hands; white, vermillion, cobalt blue, jade, gold. Each time he comes in from the garage her curiosity peaks but he simply tells her _patience. _She longs for the surprise, to see how her darling husband is bringing new life into worn wood.

It is a beautiful Saturday morning, in a few hours they will drive to meet Ruby to gather Amelia for a week. Jean's excitement at having her granddaughter for a week allows Lucien the time to make the finishing touches to prepare for the big reveal.

"Come with me Jean. I want you to see this before we leave."

"What?" She answers a bit distractingly, the toy long out of her mind with the preparations for a visit from a two year old.

"Just come with me, please." It is when he takes her hand and leads her outside that she understands where he is taking her.

The moment she sees the rocking horse, it takes her breath away. "Oh, Lucien. It's beautiful." She runs her hand over the new lacquer, the jewel tones of the saddle and bridle a beautiful contrast to the white of the horse. She continues down to a brown saddle bag that has carefully been painted with toys that she easily recognizes sticking out; Christopher's lorry, Jack's train, Amelia's teddy bear with the pink bow. In the same pink a small butterfly takes flight from the satchel.

Jean's well manicured finger delicately traces the gold letter _B _that Lucien elegantly painted on the saddle edge. He comes up behind her wrapping an arm around her waist. "_B_ for the Beazley family." He tells her softly.

She spins in his arms, eyes gleaming, wearing a smile that tells him he got it right. Kissing him deeply before resting her head above his heart. "And _B _for the Blake family, our family. Thank you, Lucien. She is going to love this."


End file.
